


You Don't Feel Damned

by moproblems



Category: Once Upon a Time RPF
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Morrilla, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moproblems/pseuds/moproblems
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trouble with someone else proposing is controlling the story. It breaks on Twitter before Lana can get a chance to talk to her lover about how much she didn't want it, how trapped she feels by a very public diamond. </p><p>And Jen? Well, her heart is broken and she's pissed as hell. No one's getting out of this conversation unscathed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Feel Damned

She said 'yes‘ because she didn't know what else to say.

She said 'yes‘ because he loves her and the desert was sort of romantic, and there was always time to take it back when they got home.

She said 'yes‘ because she never did find the words to say ‘I love you, but there's someone else I love more’.

So. She said 'yes‘, even though her heart was crying ‘no, no, no’.

Lana didn't expect him to have the ring. She couldn't believe he was proposing with a ring she didn't even get a say in choosing. He meant well, and the traditional thing could be sort of charming, sometimes, but mostly it chafed at how she saw herself, at how she wanted these things to be.

Maybe she would have appreciated it more if she hadn't spent the past six months fucking her co-star during every break and snatched moment they could find together. It got harder to ignore that that little habit might just have become a factor.

She locked herself in the bathroom at two in the morning local time, when he finally fell asleep. She called Jen. Of course she did. The call went straight to voicemail, which just never happened, causing Lana to check the time difference again. She sent a text that simply read ‘I miss you. Call me.’ and waited in vain until she felt so tired she had to slip back into bed to avoid falling asleep on the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Lana was so careful to only retweet the pictures where her hand was hidden, and that turned out to be almost all of them. She made excuses about not wearing it at first, waiting to tell her mom and a hundred other things, but Fred blabbed at dinner with a cheesy toast that made her cringe, and that left Bellamy and Katie demanding to see the bling.

From then on there was no hiding it.

Three days passed and Jen still hadn't responded. Lana knew, the dread was right there in the pit of her stomach. She knew that she was busted and it was almost impossible to think of anything else, even as she looked at wonders of the world that filled every day of their ABC-funded engagement tour.

When they were safely back in Vancouver, Fred stepped up his campaign for a public announcement. She knew without checking his sent emails that he ‘leaked’ it to the LA Times, of all places, that goddamned rag that never paid a scrap of attention to anything she’s doing, no matter how great the gig. He might not have known about the past six months, but one drunken confession of the ‘chemistry’ Lana had with Jen had put him on edge about her from day one. Hell, he watched the show like a so-called fan. Maybe he just saw what anyone else with eyes saw, and felt threatened accordingly. If she wasn’t so damn tired of it all, Lana might have done more to soothe that bruised ego. 

As it turned out, it simply gave Lana an excuse to invent a meeting with her management, one that couldn’t be carried out over Skype. She drove right to the airport an hour later, booking herself on the first flight to LAX, ignoring the glances from airport staff who recognize her by now, who expected her to be picking up the pre-booked studio tickets as usual. She knocked back three generous shots of tequila before the fasten seatbelt light went off, and passed the relatively short flight in something between a doze and a light coma, roused only by a kindly stewardess when most of First Class has already made their way off the aircraft. 

She showed up at Jen's house like a goddamned stalker, a few clothes and her makeup stashed in an overnight case. Lana almost giggled at the thought of acting like the small, lunatic fringe of her fans, the ones who booked once-in-a-lifetime vacations to Vancouver just to scope out her quiet residential street in their rental cars, not realizing that most of the neighbors are studio or crew staff, ready to tip her off at the first sign of genuine intrusion. As far as she knew they’ve never even managed to catch her at home, but she couldn’t think of trivia like that when her entire future happiness hung in the balance.

There was no plan. She didn't even know if Jen would be back from New York, but when she buzzed at the gate, her rental car idling for some long minutes, someone let her in. The property is so much grander, so much more established than the crappy 2-bed that Lana passed on to her sister when she left LA. It was a hell of a lot more impressive than her Evil Queen salary and the low, low prices of Canadian property have garnered, too, not that Lana’s every visited Chez Morrison before now in anything other that the wee small hours or disappearing in studio car summoned to spare her the walk of shame. 

There was no prepared speech, no plan of any kind, just a desperate need to see Jen and explain that things were never supposed to get this far.

Jen opened the front door herself, and she was a sight for fucking sore eyes in white linen pants and a navy blue sports bra, hair pulled up in a messy bun and a headband around the blonde curls to keep strands from falling in her face. No sign sweat rolling over the perfect, slightly-golden skin, so Lana figured she hasn't interrupted a workout just yet.

The sight of Lana alone must have been too much, because Jen took exactly three steps forward and raised her hand like she was going to slap Lana, only to think better of it at the last minute, dropping the hand again in defeat.

"Congrat-u-fucking-lations," Jen announced with a sneer, and Lana put a hand to her own face as a defensive gesture she hoped she wouldn’t need. "I hope you'll be really fucking happy."

"I didn't mean to say yes," Lana blurted out, because to hell with looking like she had her shit together right now. It was the first time she’d been able to tell the whole truth in a week, and she grabbed at it like a drowning woman finally finding the edge of the pool. "It was the vacation, or something."

"I don't want to hear this," Jen muttered, moving to close the door. Lana saw her last chance retreating and pushed her way past into the cool foyer. "Lana, forget it. Okay?"

"I don’t want to forget it," Lana pleaded, grabbing Jen's wrists and pulling her close. She moved in for a kiss, but Jen ducked out of the way. "Jen, I don't want to be with him anymore."

"Then why agree to marry him? And take on the kids? Jesus Christ, Lana," Jen groaned. "What am I supposed to think? You couldn’t even keep it off Twitter."

"I panicked," Lana admitted. She was desperate then, trying for another kiss; this time Jen let her. Hot, wet and yes, so very desperate, when Jen's tongue pressed against Lana‘s lips, there was something distinctly territorial in the move. Lana kissed back with all the panic and longing she hadn't had time or space to express, and as they pulled apart, Jen sucked on Lana‘s bottom lip, biting down in something like a warning. Lana stumbled back when they finally parted, almost tumbling over some antique wooden chair that dominated the entryway.

"Where is it?" Jen asked dully. "Show me your hand."

"It's not there," Lana admitted. "I took it off."

"But you brought it," Jen accused. "Or he'd notice. Since you live together and all."

"Jenny, baby, please," Lana begged. "It's in my pocket, I don't want to hurt you."

"Don't Jenny me," Jen snapped. "You haven't earned that. Put it on."

Lana wanted to avoid the fight, so she pulled the ring from the safety of her inside jacket pocket. She shoved it onto her ring finger with shaking hands. It wasn’t lost on her that the fit wasn’t even right, the diamond tilting automatically to one side.

Jen grabbed her hand, hard enough for the grip to pinch, and pretended to appraise the ring.

"How pretty," she snarled. "Clearly, the idiot picked it out himself."

"How do you know?" Lana asked.

“I know you. I know in a million years you’d never have picked this sterile, boring solitaire. Give me some credit.”

“I’m not saying it’s my favorite or anything. What would you have--”

“I don’t get to buy pretty rings, remember?” Jen was furious, actually pacing in her own living room like a bad Lifetime movie in action. “That wasn’t the deal.”

“Right, because why would you for some chick you’re banging on the side?” Lana accused. “Oh you’re mad, Jenny. Just not mad enough to risk setting one toe out of the goddamned closet to acknowledge me. I’m supposed to give up security, a family just to be your dirty little secret?”

“You don’t know what I had planned.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“Ask Sebastian. I ended that little arrangement.”

Lana approached cautiously, wary of trying to tame the lion of Jen’s anger with neither whip nor chair. Lana held her hands up in something like surrender, and the tension slumped out of Jen’s shoulders at the first touch of Lana’s hands gripping her shoulders. 

“You really think I’ll believe you did that for me? That is has nothing to do with the fact that he’s basically booked out for the next year, minimum? He’s Marvel’s bitch now, and you were always happy for that to be the case.”

“I wanted to be with you. I could feel Fred pulling you away. When he suddenly showed up in Israel after you swore to tell him you wanted to go alone…”

“The studio fucked that up. He still got his ticket and assumed that was my way of reinviting him. Fuck, this has been a nightmare from start to finish.”

“A comedy of errors,” Jen snorted. “Sounds about right for anything involving us. Are you here to run away? Beg me to make an honest woman of you? We can totally do that in California now, right?”

“You don’t want to marry me,” Lana teased, but when she cupped Jen’s cheek with her bare palm, the tears that fell seemed completely sincere. “Holy shit. Don’t tell me I’m really breaking your heart with all this?”

“What do you think?” Jen sighed through her tears. “I never let myself slip. Never. It’s been mutually beneficial ‘boyfriends’ the whole way. But now I see I’m gonna get screwed whatever I do. I might as well hit on every pretty girl that comes on set. Turns out I’m pretty good at keeping secrets.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t--” Lana lost her battle against the tears that had been welling since she laid eyes on the house. “I know I have zero room to talk but the thought of you with someone else, for real--”

“And marrying some guy isn’t real? Don’t even get me started on the fact that he hit on every actress who’s come through Vancouver in the past three years. And really don’t get me started on his little set visits where, by the way, he might as well just whip it out and pee around you in a circle. You think I don’t know that’s for my benefit?”

“I don’t ask him to be that way. But everyone knows there’s this spark… he gets jealous. What am I supposed to do?” Lana yelled the last part, genuinely at a loss. She hadn’t asked for this, on what turned out to be her real big break after all that time. She should have been hanging out in LA every other weekend like Jen and Ginny, but instead she’d ended up Grouse Grinding when she could have been red carpeting. 

“Leave. Him.” Jen stated it as easily as ordering at Starbucks. “Take off that ugly goddamned ring that doesn’t even fit you, and tell him to shove it up his jealous Canadian ass. He’ll be shacked up with a guest star in six months, don’t worry about that.”

"I can't, I--"

Jen grabbed her then, still careful despite the strength in her fingers. With Jen, Lana had never felt intimidated or casually touched. Even in moments of high emotion, and there had been way too many of those already, Jen had that underlying care that made Lana feel... safe, maybe even cherished. Not exactly the language for talking about a sordid affair, and yet there they were, caught up in the same old chemistry all over again.

"If I kiss you, do you think about him?" Jen demanded. "Do you?"

Lana shook her head. A moment later, Jen's lips were pressed against her own, a cushioned gift of a kiss that was both brief and incredibly tender. Despite the gentleness, Lana felt something soar inside her, a surge she'd been trying to subdue in vain since she first laid eyes on her co-star. 

"All I can think is that I want you to do that again," Lana admitted. She brought her hands together, ready to tug at the ring and throw it anywhere she didn't have to see it. Jen's fingers around her wrists halted that thought before Lana could see it through.

"Keep it on." Jen's voice was barely more than a growl. "You keep it on, and you fuck me wearing it, understand? If you can't, I'll know once and for all who you're choosing."

That should not, really, truly, have been a turn on, but if Lana hadn't realized she was screwed before, the jolt between her legs at that little challenge had sealed the deal for sure. 

"I've missed you," she told Jen, backing her towards the sitting room with a flurry of kisses. The linen pants were gone with a tug, the sports bra taking a little more deftness, but with the reward of those pale pink nipples to suck on, Lana found herself more than motivated. 

"The bedroom," Jen gasped as Lana teased one erect nipple with her teeth. They were backed against the wall beside the fireplace, and Lana felt pretty confident she'd already made Jen forget the layout of her own damn house. "In back." Yeah. They'd covered that after Paley. And before some other event. And three or four times when they'd supposedly been in town just for charity events.

But those questing hands tugging at Lana's own simple jeans and t-shirt have success by the time they pass the kitchen, and that huge walnut feature table is just begging to have Jen laid out on full display, so it took little more than steering hands laid on almost bare hips to have exactly what Lana wanted, right in front of her. She urged Jen up onto the table, knocking a pot of fresh herbs aside with a little too much force, the smell of damp earth and cilantro filling the air around them for a few brief moments, until they were carried away on the early summer breeze. 

"Sorry," Lana murmured, her mouth against the taut skin of Jen's hipbone. She wasn't sure quite what the apology was supposed to cover, but the breakage was somewhere to start. "Sorry," she repeated again, grazing her teeth over that sensitive spot to make Jen arch up against her mouth. 

"S'okay." Jen might not even have meant to say that. "Don't stop."

And so Lana didn't. She didn't stop pressing hot little kisses along the edge of the whisper of a suggestion of panties that Jen had put on that morning. She took her sweet time easing that scrap of lace down over perfect, trembling thighs. The light in the kitchen really was phenomenal, showing off every curve and line with the precision of a photoshoot. Before Lana could settle in at her favourite location, she found herself pulled up towards Jen, hovering over her on the table and trading soft, swift kisses that might just have meant something like "I'm here" or "this is real" and "why did we ever, stupidly think about doing this with anyone else?" But Jen had needs, she was far from stupid, so when Lana broke the pattern to kiss her way over breasts and abdomen, Jen let her chart that path. The sigh of contentment at the first swipe of Lana's tongue over a hardened clit already covered in a whole lot of wetness was a reward in and of itself. 

"Don't forget," Jen rasped as Lana licked over and over in earnest. "I want to feel it. Your fingers. That fucking ring..."

Lana closed her eyes in a moment of frustration. The last thing she wanted to do was risk hurting Jen, but taking the ring off for that reason would seem like an excuse. Even the hint of an excuse then meant choosing him, choosing something other than Jen, naked and already thrumming with arousal. Laid out like that, it wasn't really a choice at all. And so she laved her tongue over every wet inch of Jen's pussy, dipping and twisting and lashing in turn. By the time Jen grasped blindly for Lana, tugging at her hair, it was certainly time to refocus on the clit and add first one questing finger and then a second, deep inside and corkscrewing almost right away in delicious counterpoint. 

At the last moment, Lana used her other hand to turn her engagement ring inwards. Feeling it was one thing, actual injury not worth contemplating. Jen seemed to have forgotten that particular quest by the time she greeted that third finger with excited little sobs that soon became much louder moans.

"I'm choosing this," Lana muttered, before flickering her tongue against Jen's clit even faster and a little bit harder. "I'm choosing being with you and making you feel like this, okay? To hell with anything else."

Jen's only response was to clench hard around Lana's fingers, and whimper, gasp and eventually half-scream her way through first one climax and then a second, Lana's fingers seem to be as relentless as her willingness to make amends.

"Fuck," Jen whines a few long moments later. It's only when Lana withdraws her shaking hand that Jen moves into action, grabbing that wrist again. "I'm going to take you to bed, okay? I'm going to treat you like a goddamned queen, and maybe I'll come up for air some time before next week, but don't bet on it, okay?"

"Okay?"

"Now, you got me pretty damn soaked, Lana."

"I did." 

"I must be all over your hand."

"Yes." Lana blushed, despite herself. Nobody else had that effect on her, and it was maddening. 

"Including his ring?"

Lana looked to confirm, and nodded.

"Then lick it clean. Lick what you did to me off his ring, and that is going to be the last time I see it. Deal?"

The only answer was to twist the diamond back around and slowly do exactly as Jen had requested. She tasted almost as exquisite there, removed from the source. The hard diamond under the tip of her tongue gave Lana a second's pause, but she knew by then that she was too far gone. When Jen was satisfied, she was the one to reach across and tug the ring free, tossing it aside like yesterday's mail.

"I should give that back..."

"We'll find it. Later. Now," Jen shimmied her way off the table, pulling Lana to her in a tight embrace. "Bedroom. And as cute as that bra looks on you, it's coming off pretty much right now."

"Are you glad I came?" Lana had to know, in that moment. "I mean, it's right that I showed up here like this?"

"Yeah. Yes. Best idea considering all the bad ones we've had before this."

"And I can stay tonight?"

"You can stay as long as you like. Well, we have work in, like, July."

Lana cracked up at that. 

"It might not be easy. To tidy up all this mess, you know... I just have this nightmare that he's going to take to Twitter and trash me, trash you..."

"Hon, you get that nobody cares the minute he's not dating you, right? And I have my publicist, you have your people, sort of... this doesn't have to be a big deal."

"But--"

"Can we not waste any more naked time talking about him?" Jen sighed. "I mean, I know it's got to be tough. The boys and all. But you said you're choosing this. Choosing me."

"You know you're starting to sound like some of our sister shows, right?" Lana mocked, just a little.

"Hell, my kingdom for a Shonda show and living back here in civilization. Now, bedroom?"

"Yes," Lana replied, and they both nodded at the unasked questions she really just answered. "Let's go."


End file.
